Literary fiction, classics, dystopian, history, memoir, prize winners, and of course the 1001 books. You really might catch me reading anything!
It's been awhile since I abandoned a book, but I abandoned this one.
I made it to page 129, almost halfway. And I wondered "Why am I doing this?" So I stopped. And I certainly have a few thoughts:
• This is not a diary. This is polished, edited, cleaned up. These feel like essays. Very intentionally written essays.
• No one goes to this many cities and dinners and weekends away, within the apparently short timespan happening here. There are no years given, so maybe it isn't short. Or maybe rich important people do go to so many events. I would not know, but I cannot relate at all.
• I really do not much like the woman portrayed in this book. She is annoying and a little mean.
I think this would have been much more interesting if she had annotated the childhood diary mentioned in the book blurb. But this? Meh.